600 P.M. #2
“Thank you,” she answered, offering her the quickest of glances. “So do you.”
Ted reached out and touched her upper arm.
“Allow me to introduce you. This is Miguel and his husband, Winslow Taggart. Winslow here runs one of the biggest hedge funds in Britain. Miguel is an up-and-coming television star.” Turning to them, he added, “This is Charlotte Evans, our incredible assistant. She makes sense out of our chaotic life. We’re lucky to have her. ”
Charlotte blushed. “Oh no, I’m the lucky one.”
A hint of desperation crossed Antonia’s face. “No, Charlotte, we are. Truly.”
Ted grinned at her like a proud father. Or perhaps a wannabe lover. So hard to tell with some men. “Let me get you one of these cocktails, Char.”
Charlotte smiled at Miguel. “It’s so wild that you’re standing right in front of me. I’ve been following you on Insta since you first started posting.”
A giddy warmth spread over Miguel, like it always did when someone identified themselves as a fan. “Well then, you and I just became best friends.”
Winslow offered her a wry smile. “You’ve just discovered the key to my husband’s heart—flattery.”
Just then, Indira, one of the other stewards, appeared with a large platter filled with appetizers.
She set the plates on the table and gestured for them to have a seat.
“Welcome aboard. Chef Yuri thought we should start with some traditional Croatian dishes: fresh calamari, octopus salad, and u?tipci—which is an irresistible fried dough. But save some room because the main course is his signature first-of-season chanterelle mushroom gnocchi with walnut pesto sauce, Croatian lamb rack, and roasted delicata squash. Dessert will be krem?nita, which is a whipped custard sandwiched between two thin, flaky layers of puff pastry and sprinkled with a finely milled icing sugar for a smooth finish.”
“Oh my, we’re going to have to be rolled back to our rooms,” Winslow muttered.
Antonia gave him a knowing look. “I only hope we won’t be expected to get into bathing suits after this meal.”
“Or worse, wet suits.” Winslow looped his arm through hers and walked with her to the table.
Miguel followed, thrilled that things were off to such a good start.
I should slow down on these drinks. I need to keep my wits about me. But each sip pushed all those pesky worries just a little further off-shore and away from him. They were now floating somewhere so far in the distance, he could barely remember what they were.
The five of them were seated at a banquet table— he, Antonia, and Charlotte on the white curved bench while Ted and Winslow sat on director’s chairs on the other side of the oval table.
The sun had set, and Oliver had turned on some soft lighting and lit a couple of candles.
The table was scattered with the nearly-empty dessert plates.
To their left, the city rose out of the darkness, tiny lights flickering in distant windows that seemed to be part of an entirely different world than the opulent one in which Miguel was currently inhabiting.
“So, what’s it like being the Disneyland of couples?” he asked Antonia and Ted.
Ted sat back, offering him a smug smile, while Antonia’s expression shifted to something pinched. She cleared her throat. “The Disneyland of couples? That’s one I haven’t heard before. Do you mean because we’re the happiest couple on earth?”
He nodded, gesturing at her with his refilled cocktail glass. “Exactly. It must be amazing to be so…together all the time. Working together, living together, sleeping together…”
Ted shook his head. “According to my wife, the sleeping part isn’t so fun. Apparently, I snore like a chainsaw.” He smiled at her. “But she puts up with me, and she makes it all so easy. She’s strong and incredibly intelligent. A hell of a great mother too.”
Antonia’s face softened and she seemed to relax. “It takes work, but work can be fun, too. In fact, it should be.”
Winslow turned to Charlotte. “And you, young lady? What’s it like to be around the world’s happiest couple all day? Inspirational? Sickening? Tell me everything.”
Charlotte’s cheeks darkened. “Oh…it’s amazing really. Definitely inspiring. Occasionally sickening.”
This was rewarded with a laugh from around the table. Charlotte waved it off, then said, “I’m only joking. They’re both wonderful bosses.”
Antonia put her hand on Charlotte’s. “I hope we’re more than bosses, Charlotte. We think of you as an important part of our family.”
Charlotte stared at their hands, her smile disappearing. Nodding slightly, she said, “Thanks, Antonia.”
Even through his tipsy haze, Miguel could see something was clearly wrong.
Antonia quickly removed her hand and lifted up her fork, taking the last bite of her pastry, as if rescuing it from its lonely spot. Then she glanced at Miguel and Winslow. “What about you two? How did you meet?”
Miguel gave Winslow a wistful smile. “I saw him through a store window in Barcelona a million years ago and fell instantly in love. I went inside, even though there wasn’t one thing in that store that I could afford.
But I wasn’t there to shop. I was there to start my life.
And what a life it is. He’s sweet and patient and witty and oh so smart. ”
Winslow rolled his eyes, and Miguel shook his head at him.
“Don’t you dare try to stop me from singing your praises.
” He turned to Antonia again. “Did you know Winslow is one of the most powerful men in the UK?” He offered Ted and Charlotte a pointed look.
“It’s true. He can get the prime minister or the queen on the phone at any hour.
But he’d never abuse that power. He runs a hugely successful hedge fund in London, but honestly, he’d be a success at anything he set his mind to.
We don’t have children or pets, but we have each other, and that’s the best thing I could ever ask for. ”
Winslow stared into his husband’s eyes, and Miguel could tell he was fighting back a tide of emotion that he would never want to show.
“And Miguel is the very best thing I could ever want. He’s not only an extremely talented interior designer, he’s my partner, best friend, and the man who keeps life interesting.
” His gaze landed on the flickering candle.
“I used to say he was the man who keeps me young, but lately, I’ve realized that I’m getting old in spite of him. ”
“You’re not old,” Miguel said, feeling irritated.
“I will be sooner than I’d like to think.” Winslow sighed, then stared at him. “And someday, this shining star before me will leave for a brighter future—”
“—I would never!”
Winslow shook his head. “And that’s fine. It’s as it should be. He’s still young and fresh and full of possibilities, while I’m about to start winding down.”
Miguel’s eyes filled with tears and he felt his chest squeeze. “You need to stop saying this.”
“It’s all true.”
“It is not. You’re young and gorgeous, and even when you aren’t, I’ll be right by your side…or right behind you pushing your wheelchair.”
“Neither of us could stand that and you know it,” he said.
“Besides, I like you far too much to put you through any of that business.” His face smoothed out, all that emotion that was there a second before dissipating into the salty air.
“And I’ve clearly had too much to drink.
” He turned and looked at Oliver, who was behind the bar preparing after-dinner cocktails.
“Dear lord, man, tell me you’re not making us more drinks. ”
“Boulevardiers—the perfect way to wind down before bed,” Oliver answered.
“More like the perfect way to wind up falling overboard,” Winslow muttered. Glancing at Antonia, he said, “How about you two? How did you meet?”
“At the University of Washington,” Ted answered for her.
“She was completing her psychiatric residency when I, a lowly psychology PhD, saw her walking across the quad with one of her professors. Somehow, I struck up the courage to talk to her. I like to think it was my passion for my work that first drew her to me, then my charm, good looks, and my excellent chicken cordon bleu that sealed the deal.”
Antonia smiled at him as though the sun shone out of his middle-aged ass. “It’s true. It was his passion for the field that first attracted me. And I do love anything with cheese and ham.”
Miguel laughed. “That’s lovely. And you’ve managed to turn all that love into an empire.”
Ted sat up a little taller. “Yes, we have.”
What was he supposed to ask them? Something about Seattle and Travis Bishop. But what? A distant voice in his brain was telling him it was urgent, but what exactly was urgent? He needed to sober up. He should ask the gorgeous steward for an espresso.
At that moment, Oliver appeared with a tray of crystal glasses containing an amber liquid, each with an orange twist for garnish. Miguel batted his eyelashes at Oliver. “Yes, I think I will.”